“Nothing wrong, I hope, mother,” I replied; and I am sure my long face and sad demeanor were not without their effect upon her.
“They are telling awful stories about you, Wolfert,” she added.
“Who are?”
“Everybody. What have you been doing?”
“I haven’t done anything, mother.”
“Didn’t you take the powder from the tool-house at the quarry, and blow up that canal boat?” gasped she, horrified that I should be even accused of such wickedness.
“No, mother; I did not. Who says I did?”
“Everybody is saying so. We all know that the canal boat was blown up; and they say you ran away before the people came.”
I told my mother the whole truth in regard to the canal boat, and she believed me.
“Waddie Wimpleton says you did it, Wolfert,” added she.